Sandwich

Campiello della Pazienza, June 1, 2011—

WE SPENT THE DAY at the Biennale today — well, partly at the Biennale, partly walking there and back: probably three miles each way, what with getting turned around and all. That works up an appetite, but the art took some of it away: and then, there aren't that many places to eat much more than a sandwich around there.

So that's what we did: ate a sandwich. A tartaruga, in fact; a turtle. Not a real one, of course: a sandwich on a bun whose general shape and size apparently looked like a tortoise to someone. Ours had prosciutto and brie and arugula in it, and on the side I asked for a bowl of small-leafed arugula which we oiled and salted. Not bad. Not memorable, and I didn't take note of the name of the place; but not bad.

White wine in carafe

Back home, finally, we had prosciutto and a delicious little melon from Sicily; then penne with butter, olive oil, and sage; and for a special treat a dessert: an apricot jam crostata from a shop down the street.

Fragolino as an aperitivo; Prosecco spento